


Hanafubuki

by 16Oshisfext (Giripops), Giripops



Category: The Rampage from Exile Tribe (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giripops/pseuds/16Oshisfext, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giripops/pseuds/Giripops
Summary: To celebrate the season of Hanami, an evening party is a must in the Kawamura Manor.
Relationships: Kawamura Kazuma/Fujiwara Itsuki
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

Kawamura Kazuma sighed for the umpteenth time that evening. He was standing in front of the grand trio of standing mirrors in his bedroom chambers as his attendant frantically tried to dress him for the evening. He had been wrangled into a pair of fitting slacks of the darkest shade of night that tapered into his dark knee high boots. It was great in showing off the length of his legs for his height but really… it felt excessive to him.

He had been mulling over the betrayal of the chamber maids for ratting him out of his hiding spot in the old library of Kawamura Manor. He had been happily flipping through foreign literature that had been hidden - most likely stashed away from his reach to stop distracting him from his duties as the Young Master. His tutor had said his English had vastly improved because of his reading and he had begun tackling the most difficult of texts as of late.

He hummed, turning slowly for his attendant to slip on the silk-lined waistcoat. It was a thick thing, the garment; double lined with silk for comfort against him yet displaying the richness of velvet, it was a magnificent combination of fine gold thread embroidery and heavy robust but opulent brocade with dull rust coloured tones. The attendant had slipped behind him, fixing the slim black cords that laced up the back of the waistcoat against him like a second skin.

“Oi… is this all really necessary? I really am just fine in this shirt…” Kazuma mumbled, mostly thinking aloud as his shifted his weight from one foot to the other, weighing out how he looked.

The shirt he donned was of thick white cotton for the chilled night but the idea was forgone when the neckline plunged down until mid chest. He saw the attendant approach with silken fringed cuffs to clip onto the plain unadorned cuffs of his sleeves. He raised his hand and the attendant halted still immediately before taking two steps back.

Kazuma canted his head to the side, examining the fade of his undercut. He had cut it merely two days prior. It was a little harsher than noble life dictated but he liked crisp lines - his mother had protested, stating it reminded her too much of his academy days when he trained and came back with far too many bruises. It was too military for her liking, but in all honesty it kept his hair in a favourable styling that was manageable for his effort level. The naturally tight dark curls of his fine hair were coifed to the side in a constructed tumble - rather he’d like to call it that even as a single lock defiantly sweeps across his forehead.

He smiled lightly, experiencing the phantom memory of slim but firm fingers slicked in camellia oil with a hint of strawberry combing through his wild hair. He knows he has company around him so he tamps down on the urge to shut his eyes and hum softly, knowing how those fingers tangle in his hair and rake all the way back to his nape in bold strokes.

“Waka-sama…” The attendant began shakily, “Your mother would be greatly disappointed if you didn’t arrive fully dressed… she had personally procured these robes for you in her travels to the West last winter.” The attendant prattled on and Kazuma couldn't help but sigh again.

“Disperse. I can finish dressing myself.” Kazuma waved the attendant off lazily.

He definitely wasn’t going to wear those lace trimmings for his sleeves, nor did he want the stuffy cravat with the jewel on it. He cast off the extra trimmings and headed for the jewellery box on his dressing table. He flipped open the lid of the old ancient wooden box before pulling out the single ring in it.

It had been a ring in his family for generations. The Kawamura family has been one of the oldest established families within the flowering capital and were known for their ancient family secrets of surface mining precious jewels. Eventually the trade of raw jewels turned into a craftsmanship of jewellery making. His ring was a sapphire of the deepest blue until it gleamed with a blue hue - said to represent the night colours of the rivers of his old clan’s village from the Edo era - but the sapphire had been polished until it was smooth, reflecting the calmness of a Kawamura man.

He eyed the black long coat that his mother had brought back. It was a slim thing, tailored to cling to the frame boldly - almost alluring in the way it would fit across the chest in its sturdy lines and cut from the waist to the tail in a dangerous sword slash manner where the ends whipped at the back of his thighs. He favoured the large amounts of gold thread fashioning the dragon motif across the vast heavy black cloth.

He had been examining the coat for so long that he hadn’t heard Rui enter his room.

“Waka-sama..” He started softly.

“Rui?” He hummed, “Is there something wrong?” 

“Well…” Rui chuckled gently, his smile putting Kazuma at ease with the soft look on the young man’s face, “There has been resistance on my end to the point where I was thrown out of the chambers.”

“Is that so?” Kazuma raised an eyebrow as he made eye contact with the young man in the mirror, taking in how he had been dressed in a deep violet shirt and charcoal grey slacks that paired with his ankle high boots.

He clucked his tongue, “Very well… Rui, please find your reprieve for now. I fear we both have a long night ahead.” Kazuma narrowed his eyes, envying the lax attire of the guard but it was gone from his visage the moment it threatened to mar his handsome features. He sighed softly. 

Rui says nothing but chuckled again, “You’re very generous, Waka-sama. I do hope you get enjoy the night. The Sakuras are said to be raining down on the lake in the East Gardens of the estate tonight.”

Kazuma picks up on the hint, knowing that none of the party guests were going to be anywhere near the East Gardens.

“I understand.” He shut his eyes for a second, counting down from five before picking up the coat and another large mass of fabric before he exited his chambers. He hadn’t ventured far, merely to the wing next to his as wended his way to the grand chamber doors to the master bedroom of the Kaika Wing. He hadn’t even bothered knocking and entered, his boots announcing his arrival with light thuds across the polished dark wood.

Kazuma found the tell-tale disaster trail of formal robes thrown on the floor and discarded messily until it would leave atrocious wrinkles in the silk. He smirked to himself wandering further into the room, following the addictive scent of opium and sandalwood to find Fujiwara Itsuki sprawled over his bed of lavish silk linens, pampering the tiny kitten that had been pawing at the bare skin of his chest.

Itsuki had sprawled with his head at the foot end of the bed, surrounded by his discarded smoking pipe and upturned sake jade glass and the endless amounts of silk scrolls. All had been abandoned for the slim hairpin that Kazuma had gifted him on his travels into the desert to the West. It was a heavy thing but refined with its attention to ornamentation and the single end that let the fine raindrop shaped crystal droop enticingly. It was marvellous for Itsuki’s hair when it was long enough to curl back into a topknot but now that he favoured a choppy shorter cut, it made the perfect toy to use on his cat. It was no bigger than Kazuma’s palm, the kitten still shivered a little as it tried to move across Itsuki’s chest.

“ _Bocchan_ … aren’t you far too busy to be visiting me?” Itsuki drawled happily, his long eyelashes fanned out dusting his cheekbones as his eyes were closed. Even with the playful smirk on his rosy lips, still his hands didn’t divert their attention from reaching out to the tiny ball of tan and white fur on his chest. The kitten had managed to paw its way to nuzzle against his jawline. It was quite entertaining to the Young Master who stood at the foot of the bed. 

Kazuma hummed, inspecting the way Itsuki hadn’t bothered to change out of his chamber robes, a loose fitting black and gold yukata made of the finest silks that Kazuma could buy easily, customized for the lavish designs and peacock feathered motifs on the endless waterfall sleeves and skirts that paired with simple black cotton breeches. His robes were tied haphazardly to the point it was clinging to the round of his shoulder as he lounged. Maybe it had fallen while he had been indulging the kitten.

“Itsuki…” Kazuma called out in a playful tone, intoning his command.

Itsuki does nothing but hum softly, still tracing his fingers down the spine of the kitten until it wrapped its tail around Itsuki’s finger, “Yes, Bocchan?” Itsuki asked, his cadence flirtatious as he opened his eyes and tilted his head back to stare up at Kazuma with bright brown eyes.

“I believe you are attending with me tonight and you are making me late.” Kazuma smirked drinking up the view of Itsuki’s head lolled to the side as he sighed. He pouted when Kazuma reached out, tangling his fingers in Itsuki’s dark and already teased hair before his eyes drift to the inviting toned planes of Itsuki’s chest, hardened and defined from years of sword training. 

“I don’t know what to wear so I won’t go. Besides this little one needs me. Poor thing needs attention and warmth on such a chilly night.” Itsuki’s deft fingers stroke the kitten until it mewls happily, patting a paw to Itsuki’s cheek in reply.

“Your hair is already styled, ” Kazuma observed.

Itsuki rolled his eyes before he picks the kitten up gently, sitting up, “I tried to get ready.”

“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.” Kazuma chuckled and reached out, offering his palm for the kitten to rub against to acquaint himself with the dainty creature.

And like anyone who meets Kazuma, the cat is naturally charmed by his smile and magnetic charisma, purring deeply and contently after it hobbled into Kazuma’s palm, laving its tongue on the heel of his palm and the inside of Kazuma’s wrist. Kazuma smiled down at the kitten, using his other hand to scratch behind the ears of the kitten until it kneads its paws on him and settled down to sleep.

“Maybe you aren’t the only one that needs attention and warmth on such a chilly night.” Kazuma spoke in hushed tones to the snoozing kitten as he side eyed Itsuki, who furrowed his eyebrows in mock irritation. He smirked, walking over to the little basket of silks and sets the kitten down to let it continue it’s sleep.

He reached the bed again, settling into the pillows and silks next to Itsuki, “We are going to be late… If we don’t leave now, we won’t be able to have fun later. I even come bearing a gift for you.”

“I don’t care, Bocchan.” Itsuki huffed, tilting his nose up in a proud manner.

“Hai.” Kazuma resigned himself to not arguing, instead he reached out and pulled Itsuki against him, brushing his fingertips over the silver of skin exposed at Istuki’s nape due to the unruly setting of his yukata neckline. He leaned in to kiss at the base of his neck, making the spoiled pet shiver.

“Must I coax you this time?” Kazuma asked gently, his lips brushing against the shell of Itsuki’s ear, enjoying the second wave of shivers before running his hands down the sides of Itsuki’s torso before settling his hands on his waist, feeling the hard slants of Itsuki’s hips under his grasp. He squeezed gently as he pressed one more faint kiss to the back of his neck.

“Bocchan…” Itsuki kept his voice steady despite his eyes fluttering to a close in delight, “Try as you might, you won’t be able to coax me tonight.”

“Oh? You’ve decided then? You won’t attend? You’re going to break Riku-dono’s heart.” Kazuma snickered softly, pressing his burning mouth against the juncture of his throat and jaw, humming lazily. 

“I don’t care about Riku-dono… _Ahh -_ ” Itsuki struggled to compose himself but doesn’t stop Kazuma’s advances, not when Kazuma’s sinful mouth was skimming over the most sensitive points on Itsuki’s neck.

“Indeed you are my little cat, you need so much pampering before you agree to something.” Kazuma tutted under his breath, “If you attend the party, there will be sweets. I believe I personally ordered strawberry desserts tonight.”

“Your bribery doesn’t work, Bocchan.” Itsuki insisted but his body betrayed the faux heat in his words.

“Then I guess I get to do this…” Kazuma chuckled before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, making Itsuki whimper softly. He relishes the pained sound for a moment and followed with a harsh suck, pleased with the low moan he drew out from his partner.

Itsuki huffed, turning around before pushing Kazuma to recline in the pillows, “That’s not fair. This will show.”

“Not if you put effort into dressing. I believe I have bought you more than enough ornaments to hide such a secret.” Kazuma pulled away from Itsuki’s skin, admiring the reddening patch of skin, “Unless you wish to flaunt it.”

“Hokuto-dono will protest.” Itsuki huffed as he climbed over Kazuma, sitting on his hips and folded his arms.

“Hoku-chan?” Kazuma questioned with a frown on his handsome face.

“Hoku-chan?” Itsuki parrots with a mocking tone, pouting already feeling the familiar feeling of being ignored by Kazuma when the beautiful prince was present.

“Listen to me, Itsuki.” Kazuma commanded gently, entangling their fingers together. Kazuma brings them to his lips, kissing each knuckle between his fingers devotedly before he looks up at Itsuki through his eyelashes, admiring how the beautiful male has quietened with the burn of his blush staining his cheeks.

“Dress up and attend the party. It will be worth it.” He locked his gaze with Itsuki before he used the moment of vulnerability to pull him to his chest. Curling his one arm around Itsuki’s waist to trap the pretty pet against the hard lines of his own body, he pressed his lips to Itsuki’s, savouring the delight of still being able to surprise his partner.

He didn’t stop there as his hands get busy with pulling the yukata apart, the miles of fabric falling off his shoulders but trapped by the tight haramaki. Itsuki whimpers when Kazuma’s teeth sink into his lower lip, turning away from Kazuma’s mouth to suck in a greedy breath. But the young master wasn’t deterred as he continued to tack on searing kisses against the long column of Itsuki’s neck.

“ _Hah_. You’re being awfully persistent, _Bocchan_.” Itsuki had the nerve to give a broken laugh despite succumbing to Kazuma’s touch. He dared to level Kazuma’s intense gaze with bright playful eyes.

“I always have a reason for doing things, Icchan… you should know this.” Kazuma hummed, tracing light fingertips over the dragon tattoo on the the right shoulder blade. “I like when I get my way, ” he taunted, leaning in until his gaze lowered to Itsuki’s rosy and slick mouth.

“I like being the only one who can defy that,” Itsuki demanded hotly, giving the young master a wrecked smirk.

“Not tonight.” Kazuma’s words rumbled before his mouth seals against Itsuki’s urgent and filthy, licking right into Itsuki’s welcoming mouth.

They part for a moment, their hard breathing filling the quiet room, “Where’s my gift, Bocchan?” Itsuki considered as he sat up, the flowing robes falling off him caught in the hooks of his elbows and his haramaki.

Kazuma lifts the black mass of fabric and drapes it back over Itsuki’s bare skin, “This is the first step to it. I expect that you will arrive late as usual and as proud as a peacock.” He whispered with a grin as he got up.

“Indeed, Bocchan… I am but your pride. I should be flaunted as such.” Itsuki smiled lazily, his eyes lidding heavily with his content for his position of comfort. Kazuma smiled gently, cupping the side of Itsuki’s face, knowing he doesn’t want to leave just yet but he will be terribly late if he delayed any further.

“You are. My pride.” Kazuma tilted Itsuki’s head up by his light grasp on his chin, “If we continue… I feel like I’ll never leave these chambers tonight.” Kazuma smiled, canting his head to the side slightly to kiss the corner of Itsuki’s mouth as his parting gesture.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yozakura - Night Sakura - Hanami at Night

The Yozakura at the Kawamura Manor was a lavish event.

Kazuma fought the grimace that wanted to settle deep onto his features. He knew he had to be a polite host and entertain the guests but the small talk was agonising to him after the third round of party-goers. Naturally, every visitor to the Manor that encountered the Young Master wanted to talk about the gossip that had been flying about the flowering capital.

It took some time but Kazuma eventually managed to escape the throngs of guests as they were spilling out of the hall through the large sliding screen doors that joined the Manor’s North Gardens. It was a pretty arrangement as Kazuma overlooked the set up; he had retreated into the banquet hall to find a spot to drink.

He had found a little space in the hall away from the stuffy nobles, sitting down at his own personal table, pulling off his skin tight black leather gloves, finger by finger and folded them before tucking them into the pocket lining the breast of his coat. Kazuma rolled his head to ease the knot settling deep between his shoulders and burrowed his stiff spine against the cushions. He makes a noise of satisfaction as he took up a pretty polished glass off his tray to drink sake.

Kazuma hummed, relishing the taste of the liquor on his tongue and the light burn at the back of his throat, as he watched over the party in the Gardens - he could pick out the pretty little wooden platforms that had been lit up with paper lanterns, filled with guests, food and wine. He rolled the sake cup in his grasp in an absent minded fashion, trying to appreciate the success of the party but Kazuma was distracted; his vision would fall out of focus until it would blur the sakura petals in the air into pale pink blurbs. He blinked rapidly, only to find his gaze drifting to the entrance hoping Fujiwara Itsuki would show up already.

He turned back to the party, trailing over the pockets of guests through the kaleidoscope of colours and patterns that seemed to blend into the warm golden lighting. He hummed under his breath, refilling his own glass. He drank slowly as he contemplated if the pretty pet had evaded him for the night.

“Kazuma,” A gentle voice brings him out of his brooding. He looked up from his seat to find Hokuto greeting him. Prince Hokuto exuded a gentle aura, smiling at Kazuma as he sat down, settling into the lavish seating cushions that had been scattered around Kazuma. He had ordered it so, as if establishing his own barrier of solitude - naturally only Hokuto would have been brave enough to ignore that.

“Hokuto…” Kazuma acknowledged softly, pouring for the prince as he took in his attire. The prince was as lavish as one could be at a yozakura party. He had been dressed in a multitude of white and blue tones - his robes bordering of a statement of a traditional kimono but with daring slits through it to show off the white pants he had been wearing. The baby blue silk was an endearing statement on his gentle features, not entirely consuming his delicate stature even as the blue silk was stitched with fierce displays of sprawling phoenix wings in glimmering silver thread on the waterfall sleeves.

“You look expensive as ever, Oji-sama.” He smirked as he threw Hokuto’s title at him playfully, offering the sake in the same notion. It had always been like this with the young prince. Kazuma and Hokuto had known each other since they were training with bamboo swords.

“Your attitude is dreadful as ever but that lacked heat, Kazuma. I sense a lack of effort. Besides you’re in charge of cheering me up since my dear brother, our beloved Crown Prince Ryota, is getting married and I hate his bride already but naturally I have to keep up appearances.” Hokuto grinned, sharing a drink with the brooding Young Master.

“I don’t think you’d quite like me if I were to be honest with my feelings right now. Would you like to taunt me further, _Hoku-chan_?” Kazuma leaned into the prince’s space, sneering the endearment in his face to purposely fluster the demure prince. Hokuto can feel the dangerous aura rolling off Kazuma in dark thick coils but he merely smiled back, even with the Young Master throwing his filthy temper at Hokuto.

Hokuto had been used to Kazuma’s brazen attitude since they were teens but the prince noted in that moment that there was something was different, something potent in the air the Young Master gave off. Hokuto has been known to read the atmosphere, given his grooming as a ruthless political tactician in the Royal Court, so he settles for observing Kazuma over the rim of his sake cup. Whatever it was, Kazuma was restless and something was rubbing his fur the wrong way.

And that was when Hokuto blinked. He realised that for once Kazuma’s dark aura wasn’t entwined with the lingering cloying scent of strawberry and opium that would physically curl off his frame mysteriously.

“Well… that explains it…” Hokuto grinned into the rim of his glass, sipping demurely - a complete vision of gentleman habits and etiquette. His long eyelashes curled against the rounds of his cheekbones as he sipped before tucking his dark hair behind his ear. His eyes flicked to Kazuma to see if he bit the bait.

Kazuma’s livid expression was priceless to Hokuto’s amusement; the Young Master’s glare bordered on murderous as he barely managed to keep the growl at the back of his throat at bay, “Oi…What are you on about?” He spits through bitten words.

“Nothing… Maybe I’m over thinking the power of people’s presence’s in a particular situation…” Hokuto smirked as he watched Kazuma narrow his intense gaze at him. 

“Don’t talk in shitty riddles, Hokuto… Wipe that fucking look off your face and be out with it already…” Kazuma gritted his teeth but he catches Hokuto’s attention being stolen from their impending verbal tussle, the prince’s taunting sneer morphed into an expression of awe.

Its then that Kazuma realised that the banquet hall had erupted with whispers about Fujiwara Itsuki who had entered the banquet hall.

Itsuki stood at the entrance, a vision of black and fur as he fidgeted uncomfortably under all the attention. He had donned Kazuma’s newly gifted fur coat over the right shoulder. Kazuma made out the tight dark high turtle neck shirt that clung snugly to his frame. It did great job of highlighting all of his strong and sturdy physique but at the same time it was ideal for hiding the little bite Kazuma had given him; Kazuma could almost see it under the fabric that wrapped snugly over his neck.

Kazuma wanted to snicker when he spotted the large Kawamura family crest of dragons that Itsuki had slung around his neck, it was a heavy imposing thing that hung low at the middle of his torso on a fine slim chain. Was his spoilt kitten that paranoid that he’d deliberately take attention away from his neck with something as gaudy as the family crest?

Itsuki had worn tapered dark grey slacks that tucked into his calf high black boots. It was only until Itsuki turned away from Kazuma’s direction that he noted the black silk short sleeved yukata styled robe under the fur layer, showing the tight black sleeves that stopped mid way on his forearms as it passed the silver taped edging of the yukata sleeve. Kazuma’s eyes lingered on the tantalising patches of tanned skin, knowing how gentle Itsuki could be despite his strength as a trained warrior. He even had the nerve to carry a black paper fan with the Kawamura family crest etched in silvery white paint.

He had never seen Itsuki so layered in clothes before but the pretty pet wore clothes tastefully. It was sensual to Kazuma, almost challenging him to undo everything to bare the real Itsuki to him.

Itsuki turned in Kazuma’s direction, eyeing the Young Master with light mirth in his eyes over the folded edges of his fan. He meets Kazuma’s eyes, bright brown eyes framed by the army of eyelashes that only Kazuma knew so well and intimately.

The Young Master knows he can only manage a mirrored playful look to return the greeting because of being in midst of guests, not that Kazuma cared. But Kazuma’s chest stuttered when Itsuki stopped dead and those eyes masked over coldly. He snapped the fan closed and he turned away, scoffing as he walked over to greet Kazuma’s mother.

“Wha -” Kazuma doesn’t fully understand the reason of Itsuki vexed expression until Hokuto leaned over, his chin hooking on Kazuma’s shoulder.

“Waka-sama… I believe you’re in deep trouble because of the company you keep.” The prince’s tone is a singsong one as he drawled Kazuma’s title.

“That’s ridiculous.” Kazuma said coldly, turning to face the prince, realising that they were brushing noses and Hokuto has the nerve to giggle, tilting his head to lean closely into Kazuma’s space.

“Is that so?” Hokuto holds eye contact, challenging the look in Kazuma’s dark eyes before Hokuto’s puckers his pretty mouth into a kissy moue.

“Stop it.” Kazuma huffed, knocking his forehead against Hokuto’s hard enough to get the prince to reel back out of Kazuma’s personal space.

“You’re so cold, Kazuma. It makes me want to chase you more since you dare to turn down royalty. Not everyone has that opportunity, you know.” He teased, pouting while rubbing at the light throb on his forehead.

“Not everyone wants the opportunity, you know,” Kazuma rolled his eyes with the flat retort, “I don’t like spoilt brats like you,” Kazuma stated firmly.

“But spoilt little kittens like _Icchan are_ to your taste, yes?” Hokuto replies, tongue in cheek manner before he busies himself with pouring drinks for them.

“Watch it.” Kazuma warned hotly.

“I believe that warning is meant for Kamiya-kun over there…” Hokuto replied as he handed Kazuma a topped up drink. 

Kazuma turned to find Itsuki laughing softly at something that Kamiya Kenta had said in their exchange. He didn’t like how Kenta crowded against Itsuki earnestly, talking to him in hushed tones. It felt too cosy for Kazuma’s liking. Kazuma growled, watching Kenta reach out to adjust Itsuki’s robe at his shoulder, his knuckles brushing against Itsuki’s cheek with far too much familiarity. He hated when Itsuki lowered his gaze, fluttering his eyelashes demurely at the contact before he flashes the shiest of smiles.

“Is there a reason that Itsuki isn’t at your side and is surrendering himself to the attention of someone else?” Hokuto asked directly, watching Kazuma’s grasp tighten on his cup with a worrying type of strength. The Young Master and his friend continued to discreetly watch over how Itsuki had been keeping eye contact with Kenta even as he offered a tray of dango in hand. Itsuki graced the offer with another shy smile, reaching out for a stick of dango.

“Didn’t you say Kamiya-kun was your newest apprentice in the Manor?” Hokuto asked calmly.

“He sought this Manor to study under Likiya-san… It may not continue that way if he can’t take a hint,” Kazuma sniffed, feigning indifference despite the threat in his light words.

“The hint you referring to is Itsuki’s outward invitation? He seems rather entertained with how rapt Kamiya-kun is.” Hokuto chuckled to himself; Kazuma being transparent and animated about his emotions was a rare thing and for Itsuki to bring out such a passionate type of jealousy in Kazuma… well, the prince merely smirked into the rim of his jade cup again, thoroughly amused.

Kazuma watched Itsuki pop the first pink ball of the dango treat into his mouth, the spoilt pet unaware of the way Kenta has been staring at his rosy mouth. Itsuki rolled the treat across his tongue, savouring the strawberry taste with a small smile.

“I wonder if the Hanami Dango is really that tasty?” Hokuto snickered softly, nudging their own tray of said dango closer to Kazuma.

Kazuma picked it up, huffing glaring at the colourful dango, “Likiya-san made them… naturally, it would be the best.” He finds himself wanting to eat it because anything Likiya made tasted like heaven. Kazuma then scowled, pulling the treat away from his lips, petulantly protesting because it had betrayed him. He should be the one feeding Itsuki and teasing him.

He was caught off guard when Hokuto deliberately nipped at the strawberry flavoured dango from the bamboo stick that Kazuma had been holding, purposely holding it between his teeth as the pink pearly sweet sat on his thin lower lip; inviting a taunt at Kazuma.

“You’re making quick work of asking for trouble, Oji-sama,” Kazuma clucked his tongue, doubling the menace in his voice as he watched impassively.

Hokuto reached out, pulling Kazuma’s hand closer before curling his slim fingers over Kazuma’s wrist so he could nibble the dango a little more comfortably, before he looked up at Kazuma through his long lashes, “I don’t know about that, Waka-sama. I think this is an intense game of waiting. Your pretty little cat may be bushy tailed right now but he will corner himself eventually. I do believe naughty kittens like that mewl prettily when it comes to begging for help.” Hokuto smirked deviously before his tongue lapped around the pink dango and pulled it off the bamboo.

Hokuto straightened up, his pale pink lips slicked with sugar as he casts a look to Itsuki; the prince was delighted to find the black look and glare directed at him but Hokuto doesn’t outward react aside from turning his back on the pet, utterly pleased knowing that Itsuki was equally jealous as Kazuma was - it was a matter of getting them to act on their jealousy.

Itsuki was the first to act as he straightened up, the perfect image of cold intimidating beauty as his smile fell away from his face and snapped his fan open, sharp enough to startle Kenta. Itsuki gave him a tart farewell before he all but marched off in a different direction so that he could stop watching Kazuma and Hokuto blatantly flirting with each other.

Kazuma was on his feet immediately when he realised Itsuki was out of his sight.

“Fuck…” Kazuma growled before he looked down on the seated prince. Hokuto smiled, tucking his hair behind his ear once more before he rose graceful from his seat.

“It seems like I’m no longer in need to keep your company, Waka-sama… in fact, I’m sure I saw Hasegawa-kun around. I do need to speak with him, _privately_.” Hokuto’s eyes gleamed with hungry intent.

Kazuma clucked his tongue, heading to the edge of the banquet hall to step into his boots, barely listening to the attendant who had been draping the dark black fur over Kazuma’s shoulder before he stepped out. He needed to find Itsuki. 


	3. Chapter 3

Fujiwara Itsuki had stormed out from the party. His coat billowed as he turned another corner, his strides carrying him fast and steady, determined to get away from the banquet hall. He clutched the closed paper fan in his grasp, willing himself not to turn back to extract some sort of petty revenge on the Young Master. 

Itsuki forcing himself to leave the party was a bitter acknowledgement; he couldn’t deny the awful mix of disgust and jealous that had been churning low in his gut. What was the point of Kazuma coaxing him to come to a party he clearly had no interest in? What was the need to rile him up? Did Kazuma enjoy tormenting him until he yearned for the Young Master oh so badly only to be slapped in the face with said Young Master entertaining the cherub faced demon that was Prince Hokuto?

He scoffed; he should have stayed in his chambers, taken a nap with baby Mars and then ordered enough wine until he’d only see the next morning’s light. He walked quietly, making for a quiet and clean escape, least should Lady Kawamura catch him and try to set him up with yet another lord’s daughter. 

Itsuki slowed his pace after escaping the open corridors of the banquet hall to the quieter side of the North Gardens where he was sure no one had spotted him. He had looked out into the garden watching over the party, sighing. Even if he didn’t want to attend… he was beginning to have fun and maybe staying for the night wasn’t shaping up to be a bad idea. Maybe he wanted to drink with Kenta, listen to him talk about his nephew and what a newly married life was like with his childhood sweetheart.

He pouted, lamenting the single stick of Hanami Dango that he had devoured. He wanted more. The sakura coloured dango was strawberry flavoured. It made him mourn the short lived delight. But his craving for sweets would have to be set aside until his anger and pride would fizzle out. 

_Bocchan is an idiot…_

He gritted his teeth, tossing the fan before striding away, unaware of the figure who had been tailing him.

The person had stopped, reaching down to pick the fan up. The man flicked the fan open for a moment smirking when he spotted the Kawamura family crest between the multitudes of rings clad on his fingers before snapping the fan closed, continuing to tail the pretty pet.

Fujiwara Itsuki had wandered his way into the gardens, a frequent reading spot known to all who tend to the Kawamura estate. He sighed, his reading spot had been done up with the paper lanterns adorning the trees, casting dull lighting over where he’d normally curl against the ancient roots. He would appreciate it much more if he wasn’t in such a foul mood.

_Snap_. Itsuki heard a twig snapping, his head whipping in the direction of the sound.

“Bocchan?” Itsuki murmured to himself as he tilted his head to the side, he could barely make out a silhouette in the darkness but he could definitely sense another presence near him. 

But he was met silence.

He couldn’t see anything, maybe he was only fooling himself into thinking that Kazuma would come to find him. Still he couldn’t shake the feeling; he sensed an intrusive gaze boring into him. Itsuki pinched the two front panels of his coat closer over his chest, feeling slightly violated with the idea of being spied on in a private moment. He clucked his tongue and turned away.

It was a niggling feeling he couldn’t dismiss but he couldn’t act like a lunatic and accuse the darkness again… at least not aloud. He shut it out, hoping to head to the lake walkway. He could cool off if he sat on the warm wood panels and admire the lotus flowers.

Itsuki had walked further into the gardens that bordered on the East Gardens but stopped dead when he could feel the person standing right behind him, he could almost feel the heat of that person teasing his chilled skin and their breath fanning over the back of his neck.

“Go away, Bocchan. I’m in no mood to entertain your excuses.” Itsuki huffed, his cheeks puffing in irritation as they flushed over with an angry red tint, rounding on the spot, only to find himself brushing noses with Aoyama Riku.

“Ara ara… Now that just won’t do… What did dear _Bocchan_ do to upset you, little flower?” His voice came across playfully as he reached out a large hand to wrap around Itsuki’s wrist, stopping the pretty pet from reeling back. Itsuki’s eyes widened with surprise, he would recognise that silky voice anywhere. It was a sound that always paired with a sultry smile and an angry mix of red and black robes. It wasn’t any different as he stood before Itsuki, even as he swiped his roughened thumb pad in a sensual slow arc across the smooth skin of Itsuki’s inner wrist. Itsuki shuddered slightly, peering at the handsome lord from behind lowered lashes, inspecting the coif of his glossy auburn hair and the wicked tilt of his mouth as he spoke.

It made sense why Itsuki had spent the latter half of his teenage years, hiding and clinging to Kazuma to escape the lord who fancied him. Now that they were men of age, Riku had backed off, at least outwardly. Itsuki never missed those lingering glances and tiny smirks that settled heavily on Itsuki like a private joke for Riku’s amusement.

Itsuki twisted his wrist inconspicuously, his eyes drifting over Riku’s black slacks and combat boots that paired with his thin black dress shirt that he hadn’t bothered with buttoning up fully, baring his tanned chest, adorned with three different strings of gold and his shoulders had been fur capped by the untied scarlet silk yukata that was draped over his shoulders. 

The lord aura’s reeked the air of someone who was older and more experienced. There was something potent about the older man despite his polite outward façade. He always had the most charming smiles to offer and to boot, courteous mannerisms that everyone had easily swooned over but Itsuki knew something else lay beneath those practised smiles and flowery words. It made Itsuki feel nervous. He cursed for getting caught, but then again Itsuki knew well enough more than anyone else that escaping Aoyama Riku was nearly impossible. Itsuki tried to pride himself on that, a nearly accomplished feat as Itsuki had carefully skirted around the lord’s presence for years.

Kazuma and Riku had started as formal acquaintances which steadily developed into an easy friendship over the years however in all that time, Riku had a habit that constantly expressed his blatant interest in Itsuki and the desire to take him as a consort when the times comes for him to take a partner in life. It didn’t make things easier with the wild rumours of Riku’s raunchy conquests that the other maidens at the Kawamura parties had gossiped about. Itsuki felt his cheeks stain pink, staring at Riku’s large hand enveloping his slim wrist but he dismisses their size difference as he clings to his well practised cold demeanour.

“Riku-dono,” Itsuki greeted courteously, bowing his head demurely, “What brings you so far from the party? Are you not partaking in the yozakura?”

“Pretty flowers that have reached their end bore me, Icchan. Why would I waste an evening watching fallen flowers when I could entertain the prettiest flower?” He smirked, edging closely as if not trying to scare Itsuki off. Itsuki felt the hair on the back of his neck raise when Riku’s scent washed over him, all heady tones of foreign earthy spices and sweet musk, “Stubborn flowers like you are always covered in ice but your kind are the most satisfying when coaxed to bloom. It takes a special kind of touch, don’t you agree?” His eyes lock with Itsuki’s intoning his hunger.

Itsuki’s breath hitched, much to Riku’s satisfaction, not liking the attention or the intent behind his words. He struggled for a moment, feeling vulnerable against the older man. Itsuki smiled despite still being unable to get his wrist free so he tried to deflect politely, “Riku-dono, I think you flatter me beyond need as you always do…Would you like to accompany me back to the party… I believe you caught me as I was heading back. I had only stepped out to clear my head. It is still overwhelming despite all the parties I’ve attended.” He lied, feeling how tight and forced his smile came across.

He felt panic nestle in his veins as he failed to shake Riku’s grip. Obviously Itsuki takes comfort knowing the lord wouldn’t do anything that Itsuki was against but Itsuki never liked how unnaturally inclined he was to succumb to Riku’s charms. He doesn’t want to be consumed by Riku’s quenchless desire. It had happened almost once, never will Itsuki let his guard down around the charming lord again.

“Oh? You’re going back even though your plan to lure _him_ out here was unsuccessful?” Riku asked, a knowing smile on his face as he tugged Itsuki closer.

“Tch. No.” Itsuki frowned, a dead give away in his clipped tone.

“My my, that’s quite the severe expression. Correct me if I am wrong but even if you hadn’t planned it that way, you were still hoping he would seek you out, yes?”

“No.” Itsuki bit his words sourly.

“Come now, little flower…” Riku hummed softly, “Don’t lie to yourself.”

“That would be false hope. It’s not in his nature.” Itsuki huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Is it now?” He chuckled sardonically, “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it? Dragons are possessive creatures who horde what they claim as their treasure. The Kawamuras are the closest we get to living Dragons in this glorious era yet Kazu-chan lets you stray so far out of his reach…” His free hand reached out, thumbing over the intricate carving on the Kawamura family crest, “Never had I imagined you’d be devious enough to play at the basest of his natures, little flower. Maybe I want to hold onto you a little longer before I let you run back to Kazu-chan. Would you like to play with me a little?”

Riku’s grin brightened, matching the hungry gleam in his eyes. He dropped the pendant to rest against Itsuki’s torso. The devious piece of metal felt like it was scorching into his skin through the layers of material as he mustered a cold look at Riku. However it faltered as Itsuki frowned, his delicate features marring with the emotion.

“I need to head back…” Itsuki huffed, turning his nose primly, frankly fed up with these lords and their egos and mind games.

“Or you can take that off and stay with me… you’ve already tossed the fan so you can forget the feeble leashes on you and enjoy the night with me…” Riku meets Itsuki’s bright eyes with dark hooded ones, completely clouded over with a telling sign of what Riku intended for their night.

“How did you know about my fan?” Itsuki’s eyes widened.

Riku used his free hand again, not relenting his grasp on Itsuki least the pet try and run away from him, showing him the folded paper fan tucked in the linings of his red robe.

“I believe you don’t need this any longer…” Riku proffered the fan, taunting Itsuki, canting his head with a suggestive expression. 

“I hardly think that is for you to decide, Riku-san.” Kazuma’s low hard voice cut between them and Itsuki has half a mind to flinch, trying to tug free again.

Riku finally released Itsuki’s wrist, turning to greet Kazuma’s murderous look with a smirk on his handsome face. Kazuma barely acknowledges it as he glared at the taller lord. 

“Kazu-chan!” Riku’s smirk grew into a shit eating grin, utterly pleased with Kazuma’s foul reaction, “We were just talking about you.”

“Don’t call me that.” Kazuma growled out, his lips curling back with his snarled words. 

“But Kazu-chan…” Riku gave a faux pout.

“I don’t particularly want to entertain your flowery words right now, Riku-san… We will talk about this at a later time.” Kazuma ordered with a tight voice, turning his undivided attention onto Itsuki. Itsuki felt his anger surge back into him, wanting to outwardly defy Kazuma but the dark look on Kazuma’s face had killed Itsuki’s need to raise hell. He felt chilled to the bone as Kazuma reached out a gloved hand from under his fur robe, capturing Itsuki’s wrist.

Riku had placed a hand on Kazuma’s shoulder, halting the Young Master, “I look forward to having drinks with you later, Kazu-chan… however, leashing him in your regalia doesn’t make him yours… I believe he had tossed this. I merely was trying to return it to him. Poor thing looked so rattled. Thankfully I was here to comfort him…” A smarmy and lazy smile creeps over Riku’s features as he drawled out the words, implying a lewd meaning to his actions solely to rile Kazuma up.

Kazuma turned his head to throw a dirty glare over his shoulder. His jaw locked tightly and his strong eyebrows furrowed at the older lord, violently shrugging off Riku’s grasp before turning to face Riku, extending his gloved palm, asking for Itsuki’s fan silently.

Riku barked boisterous laughter, placing the fan into Kazuma’s extended palm, watching Kazuma narrow his glare at him.

“Ara ara… you’re so scary, Kazu-chan… Here. The little flower knows where to find me if he needs me. I’ll be waiting, _Icchan_.” Riku looked past Kazuma and winked before he turned his heel, sauntering back to the party.

* * *

Riku found Prince Hokuto on his attempt to slip back into the party unnoticed; the prince had been seated against one of the smooth wooden pillars of the banquet hall, smoking from a thin long pipe.

“Good evening, Riku-dono.” He greeted with a sly smile, puffing stray ringlets into the cold air.

Riku can’t help but return the playful expression, “Good evening, Oji-sama… I see you’ve managed to set Kazuma’s little pet on edge.”

“Itsuki will thank me later…” Hokuto grinned.

“Oh? Whatever for?” Riku raised an eyebrow, fascinated and curious as he seated himself beside Hokuto; the two of them watched over the two figures grapple for a moment before they disappeared further into the East Gardens. 

“Kazuma can be oblivious to certain things when in a black mood; let’s say… blatant jealousy on his pet or the bottle of rose oil I slipped into his pocket.” Hokuto’s gaze cut from the gardens and meets Riku’s amused expression.

“You seemed determined on things playing out this way…” Riku mused with a hum, almost impressed at how ruthless and oblique the young prince was.

“I only wished to see that my effort didn’t go to waste. It seems I am in your debt as you’ve renewed my efforts. I do think green is a flattering shade on Kazuma.” Hokuto grinned once more, intoning Kazuma’s jealousy showing.

“Think nothing of it. A happy accident, really… Icchan is too beautiful to experience something as ugly as jealousy without reward, yes?” His dark eyes flicked to the prince, with a knowing look.

“That is for them to decide… I do recall I was on a hunt for Hasegawa-kun.” Hokuto grinned, raising gracefully to take his leave.

“Be gentle.” Riku waved the prince off with a snicker on his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

Kazuma had been deathly silent, dragging a protesting Itsuki through the East Gardens while clutching Itsuki’s fan in his hand with a crushing force, willing the eyesore of a fan to burst into flames already. 

He tugged Itsuki harshly until the pet was stumbling to keep up with the Young Master’s strides. All of Itsuki’s spitting words and hissed protests fell on deaf ears as they headed for the walkway over the lake. Kazuma had steered them to the furthest and most secluded spot away from the party. They were at the large pavilion at the end of the walkway when Itsuki snapped, stopping them dead just short of where Kazuma wanted to talk as he jerked out of Kazuma’s vise grip. 

Kazuma made a strangled noise of indignation, whirling around on the spot to deal with the pet. He took in the angry flush staining Itsuki’s face even with the different shafts of lighting falling on his marble skin from the overhead paper lanterns mixing with the different shades of pink paper sakuras. 

Kazuma took a step forward but Itsuki took a step backward. He repeated the step again and so did Itsuki, accidentally backing himself against a smooth warm wooden bannister. He hissed, the pain blooming sweetly at the base of his spine. It seemed to come as a shock as Itsuki, he had never been cornered like so by the Young Master. He stared unseeingly before he blinked, focused on the vision of wrath in front of him.

He took in the way Kazuma’s chest heaved with irritation and his curled fists at his sides, even as the fur coat whipped at his thighs in the cold evening. He couldn’t see Kazuma’s eyes with the tilt of his head but he clearly saw the tick in his tight jaw between the shafts of lantern lighting and moonlight falling on them. 

Itsuki felt his anger rush into his veins again - Kazuma had no right to be enraged with him.

“What is the meaning of this, Bocchan?” Itsuki snubbed Kazuma, using the teasing nickname with disdain to provoke the Young Master. 

“What is the meaning, you ask?” Kazuma parroted in a scathing tone, leaning into Itsuki to crowd him, placing both hands on the bannister so that his arms caged Itsuki at the waist before he looked up at Itsuki, piercing the pet with his arresting gaze, “You’re so bothersome. The moment I take my eyes off you, you find yourself trouble…” 

“Are you expecting an apology, _Bocchan_?” Itsuki sneered coldly, egging on Kazuma’s mood, “Hand me my fan. Hokuto-dono must be eagerly anticipating your return.” Itsuki dismissed Kazuma with his pretty mouth thinning into a grim line. 

“Are you that eager to get rid of me? Do you have better company to keep tonight? Is it Kamiya-kun? Or are you actually considering Riku-san’s offer after all these years of denying him?” Kazuma accused harshly, each question the equivalent of a tongue lashing if Itsuki’s faltering expression told him anything but Kazuma couldn’t help the awful words pouring out of him, not when the ugly green monster was practically purring in delight with Kazuma’s jealousy. He watched Itsuki turn his head away to break eye contact, the moonlight playing up the flicker of hurt in those chocolate eyes before he huffed. 

“Would picking Riku-dono hurt you more, Bocchan?” Itsuki turned frosty as he met Kazuma’s dark eyes with a renewed hard gaze, measuring the tightness of Kazuma’s locked jaw before he dared to speak again, “Then I’ll gladly accept his offer.”

“He knows you’re mine and yet he tries to court you, the insatiable bastard.” Kazuma snarled, breathing his anger out as he stared down his feisty pet. 

“Am I yours?” Itsuki scoffed.

“Need I remind you?” Kazuma’s voice was quiet and tight but cracked like a whip when he raised an eyebrow, a gloved hand curling around the chain at Itsuki’s chest.

Itsuki’s eyes fell to Kazuma’s hand, moving to grip the family crest pendant and Kazuma was met with breathy sarcastic laughter, “More chains, Bocchan?” 

Kazuma growled, pulling Itsuki into him until they sealed their lips over messily and the fine chain snaps under his fisted grip. The pendant and the fan both falls, with a clattering sound, at their feet. Neither of them heed the messy sprawl of the ruined paper fan and the broken chain as Kazuma wrapped cool gloved fingers around Itsuki nape while he wound his other hand into Itsuki’s hair, ensuring the latter had no way to escape him.

Their kiss was a mix of stinging nips and biting strokes in a desperate exchange between them, each one trying his very best to frustrate the other with breaking the rhythm of the kiss but Kazuma was relentless, tormenting Itsuki’s stubbornness, taunting his endurance until he’d know the pet would become pliable under his touch. 

Itsuki could feel the urgent press of Kazuma’s ruthless hot mouth against him, burning and setting his skin on fire. He fought the low moan until it rumbled in his chest. He tried to deny the tingling sensation at the back of his scalp as Kazuma’s grip tightened on his hair, tugging however he willed to angle their kiss. 

The harsh slant of the kiss and hard slide of Kazuma’s mouth made Itsuki break into shivers, even with the pet flush against Kazuma’s warmth. Itsuki struggled, scrambling for purchase until his fingers find Kazuma’s waist coat, crushing the fine brocade before he bites down on Kazuma’s lower lip and reeled back, sucking in a greedy breath to clear his mind of the lust induced fog. 

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the bruising kiss staining his rosy mouth a darker shade of red. Itsuki panted softly, fixing Kazuma with a vexed look. The scowl marring his lips contradicted his bright eyes as they were still clouded over with desire. 

Kazuma had clucked his tongue when they broke apart, he had canted his head to the side, his tongue running across his lower lip, lapping over where Itsuki had bitten him before he smirked sinfully.

“Not bad, kitten,” Kazuma’s gloved hand finds Itsuki’s chin; the latter fights the hiss on the tip of his tongue when the chilled leather makes contact with his heated skin, but Kazuma doesn’t miss Itsuki practically trembling against him. His smirk grows, utterly pleased with how riled up his pretty pet was, tilting his head to press a languid kiss to the corner of Itsuki’s puffy mouth. It’s mockingly chaste with the way it left a lingering burning sensation on his skin. There was nothing chaste to Kazuma in his current mood, not with the wicked tilt of his mouth brushing against Itsuki’s as he spoke. 

“Let’s try that again…” Kazuma drawled the command; his low velvet tone made liquid heat pool in Itsuki’s gut, fanning a flame of need. He shuddered, animal like instincts fighting the fake calm surrounding Kazuma.

_“Kazuma…”_ He breathed quietly; turning his head away, barely containing his gasp when he felt Kazuma’s lips pressed against his jawline. The contact had been like a jolt of electricity through his veins. 

“That’s right, kitten… Call only for me,” Kazuma ordered, wearing Itsuki out into submitting to him while he pulled apart the outer robes, pushing the silk yukata off Itsuki’s shoulders until they were hooked in his elbows as the latter gripped onto the bannister for a sane thought that wasn’t the Young Master’s name.

His hands traced over the planes of Itsuki’s chest, his teasing touch dancing until it reached his belt, making Itsuki suck in an uneven breath, feeling a little too drunk on Kazuma’s indolent and potent touches. 

He felt Kazuma’s lips sliding against his own again, asking for a kiss but Itsuki denies him, gasping when Kazuma pulled Itsuki's tight shirt up his torso, exposing his skin to the cold air.

Itsuki shut his eyes, shuddering as Kazuma’s hands skate down the bare skin to settle at his hips, thumbing his gloved touch over the exposed slivers of skin there in lazy arcs, watching Itsuki cling to his crumbling stubbornness.

“Are you going to fight me, kitten? Would you like me to bite back?” He asked in a saccharine tone. Itsuki couldn’t see it but he knew Kazuma had notched a eyebrow to taunt him.

Itsuki felt himself flushing a dark shade at Kazuma’s words, feeling the urge to clamp his thighs together with the white flames of lust licking at the long faded marks in reminder. He took another shaky breath as heat climbed up his neck, feeling painfully aroused. The marks were gone but Itsuki was a little dizzy with the phantom memory of Kazuma between his legs, all lazy sensual smiles and languidly throbbing bites. 

Still he wouldn’t submit to Kazuma. 

At least not yet.

“Hmm? You’re being so adamant…” Kazuma hummed as one hand comes up to skim over the fabric at Itsuki’s throat, pleased with seeing Itsuki physically steeling himself against the urge to tip his head back. His fingers curl into the neckline and he pulled it down to expose the fresh bite mark that had darkened into a light shade of red. In the same motion he had pinned Itsuki’s hips to the bannister with his other hand and pressed close to seal his mouth against Itsuki’s pulse point on his throat. 

_“Haa…”_ Itsuki arched against Kazuma with the hot contact on his sensitive skin; the moan dies on his lips when Kazuma started mapping out searing open mouthed kisses along the newly uncovered patch of skin and the pretty pet can’t help his second nature, finally tilting his head to give Kazuma free reign. Kazuma nipped along the skin teasingly, making Itsuki’s breath hitch. 

“People think I own you with flighty gifts and tacky acts of displaying my power over you…” He found the ruddy bite mark, tonguing at it with pressure until Itsuki shuddered, stuttering his exhaling, “You’re mine because I’m the only person who knows how spoilt you are and how you need to be worshipped like this, isn’t that right, kitten?”

Itsuki doesn’t trust his own voice at that point; choosing to run his hands down Kazuma’s chest, fisting at the fabric at his waist. He shut his eyes and hoped that Kazuma would be satisfied. 

“ _Oh?_ More silence?” Kazuma chuckled low and throaty as he sunk teeth into the bite mark again, hoping to break the pet’s stubbornness. 

“Kazuma!” Itsuki’s eyes shot open, whining under his breath about the pain.

“Yes?” He shot a wicked smile as he cupped Itsuki’s face, drawing him for another kiss. He stole the first one in a quick teasing swipe. Another. And another. Running the tip of his tongue along the seam of Itsuki’s plump lips. Before melting Itsuki into languid kiss that has his pet shivering against the Young Master with Kazuma’s name on his lips.

The Young Master’s mouth captured Itsuki’s full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before his teeth sunk into the bruised pink flesh. The sting of the bite drew out a delicious whimper from Itsuki but Kazuma wasn’t satisfied with stopping there. He pressed on immediately, licking into Itsuki’s mouth with filthy flicks of his tongue, devouring any stray sound that escaped as the pretty pet clawed at the copious amounts of fur around Kazuma’s arms. 

Itsuki groaned, arching his body against Kazuma’s, begging for a break as his mind fogged over with the bouts of pleasure and pain. He gripped onto Kazuma tightly like an anchor, even as he broke away from Kazuma, shaking and panting as he pressed his forehead to Kazuma’s. 

“Your mouth looks much prettier when you’re chanting my name like this,” Kazuma’s mouth slanted with his smug smirk, his gloved thumb traced over the shape of Itsuki’s mouth, “But you’re being so stubborn tonight. You won’t play with me, kitten,” Kazuma feigned a pout for Itsuki, even if the pet had his eyes closed, he knew he could coax him to be more forthcoming.

Kazuma draws back, examining the way Itsuki was stained pink with blush and his mouth, slick and parted. Kazuma treasured that expression the most, knowing he is the only one who can stir such a wretched vision of desire on Itsuki. He watched Itsuki’s chest deflate with his sigh. The Young Master watched Itsuki’s eyelashes flutter when he opened his eyes, baring those beautiful chocolate eyes to him. 

“I’m angry with you…” Itsuki doesn’t understand the small voice that comes out of his own mouth so he looks away from Kazuma, trying to not concentrate on the lingering zing of pleasure. 

“Because of Hoku-chan.” Kazuma summed up, ceasing his punishing kisses and touches in favour of listening to what Itsuki has to say - it isn’t often that his pet opens up about his feelings. 

Itsuki’s mouth twisted with the mention of the prince, “You don’t know what it is like to see the two of you together and the way you two are. You wouldn’t understand how I feel.” He scoffed. 

Kazuma snorted, tangling his fingers with Itsuki’s once again for the night and brought them up to kiss the knuckles.

“It’s amusing that you think I’m remotely interested in the prince when I’m not, Itsuki. But I do understand how you feel.” Kazuma sounded amused. 

“I’m having a hard time believing you.” Itsuki sniffed haughtily, masking the fracture in his pride, almost hurt for opening up and being vulnerable. 

“Let me spend the night making it up to you, kitten… It seems that I have upset you quite a bit.” Kazuma suggested softly, pressing gentle kisses to Itsuki’s fingertips. 

“A night in your bed won’t fix this. Your words still hurt, Bocchan. Branding me and bedding me like a chamber whore would only be cruel.” Itsuki fussed softly but he wouldn’t withdraw from Kazuma’s kisses.

Kazuma’s own hand covered over Itsuki’s hand at his mouth, trailing more ardent and devoted kisses until he had reached the pulse point on Itsuki’s inner wrist, “The night is yours to command. My only condition is that it is only you and I.” He pressed a kiss to the heel of Itsuki’s palm, “However, I fail to see the harm in _indulging…_ ” His tongue swiped playfully across the inside of Itsuki’s wrist, making the latter gasp.

And its magic the way Itsuki was practically unravelling under Kazuma’s indulgent ministrations; his soft words melting away the anger between them. Itsuki smiled shyly, cupping Kazuma’s cheeks, leaning in to brush their lips together without kissing him. 

“What was that for?” Kazuma broke into light laughter, he scrunched his nose at being teased and denied a kiss. 

“An apology.” Itsuki mumbled, “Picking a fight with you is a rather painful thing. I think I end up hurting myself more rather than punishing you… I will accept your offer for the night, Bocchan. You need to make me forget this awful feeling.” He admitted softly, drawing Kazuma in once more until they were locking their gazes together; Itsuki silently expressing his explicit trust in the Young Master before his eyes slide shut, gently nipping at Kazuma’s lower lip, tangling them in a chaste kiss. 

Kazuma’s pleased hum rumbled in his chest, smiling against the kiss, “Anything for you, kitten.” 

He murmured the promise countless times between kisses before deepening the light playful kiss that Itsuki had been teasing him with into something fervid. Itsuki sucked in a deep breath, being caught off guard as Kazuma wrapped an arm around his waist, melding their bodies together. Itsuki’s hands settled in Kazuma’s tight slicked curls, moaning sweetly as he finally relished their intimacy for the night. 

“Do you intend to break my resolve?” Kazuma broke away to tease Itsuki, a wrecked smirk playing on his swollen lips, “How do you expect me to resist you for the night when you sound this sweet? It seems hardly fair…” 

Itsuki bit down on his lower lip, fighting the smile as he feigned innocence before he canted his head to the side. Kazuma’s rationality slipped away from him when Itsuki’s mouth skated up the sharp slope of his jawline with daring licks, “I believe you promised to endure my will for the night, Bocchan.” He chastised softly. 

“This is revenge. You’re going to kill me like this.” Kazuma muttered, still making no effort to counter Itsuki. 

“Endure for me, Bocchan.” He whispered, a taunting lilt to his provocative tone as he relished Kazuma’s noise of surprise when his teeth found the sensitive spot behind the ear. Kazuma tightened his grip on the brat, he would have to deal with Itsuki’s attitude until he could have the pretty pet moaning under him.

“Waka-sama!” The two flinched apart when they heard the call of a maid in the distance. 

“Fuck.” Kazuma clucked his tongue before he looked over Itsuki, knowing the pet was in no condition to go back to the party in his dishevelled state. 

Itsuki clucked his tongue, “Well, we can’t get caught like this.”

“I can get rid of her…” Kazuma growled under his breath, his distant glare bordering on murderous. 

Itsuki swatted Kazuma’s arm, “No.” He side stepped away from Kazuma, looking around for an exit. He turned around, spotting the wasen beneath them, “Anno… Bocchan, we just may have an escape plan…” 


End file.
